


Bad, Bad Thing

by spinner33



Series: Friends Don't Let Friends.... [3]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M, More Bromance than Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-20 09:40:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4782662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinner33/pseuds/spinner33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Follows Two Piña Coladas.  Danny is surprised by what Steve will do for his ohana.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad, Bad Thing

“ ‘Ino,” Steve warned, peering across the horizon.

“What’s that?” Danny replied, lifting the sunglasses perched on his nose. 

“Storm coming.” 

“Hmm,” Danny hummed. “You know the only thing more awkward than dropping your daughter off at your ex-wife’s lavish new home on Monday morning after a weekend visit?” he added quietly. 

“What’s that?” McGarrett wondered. 

“Dropping your daughter off on Monday morning after you had a fight with your ex on Friday night,” Williams continued. 

“Awkward,” Steve agreed amiably. When Danny gave him a quizzical glance, Steve explained, “Friday night when I picked you and Captain Morgan up at the Honky Tonk, I told you I know how you feel, and you told me I had no idea, so I shouldn’t say that. That’s true, because I’ve never been married to Rachel, or divorced from Rachel, or sleeping with Rachel after I divorced her, or been forced to see her after she decided to break my heart, again, and go back to her current husband. So I want to make it clear that I’m saying ‘I know’ as a means of being emotionally supportive, not necessarily because I have had the same experiences that you have had. Friends do that.” 

“Okay,” Danny elongated the word well beyond two syllables, because he wasn’t sure he had ever heard Steve string that many words together at once the entire time he had known him. 

“Good. Glad we’re clear,” Steve beamed. 

“Dropping Grace off at school was so much easier than facing Rachel first thing on a Monday. I do have to pick Grace up tonight though,” Danny continued. 

“Understood.” 

“This means you can’t get me into any dangerous or wild adventures today.”

“At least nothing that lasts past 3:30?” Steve said hopefully.

Danny stared blandly at Steve. McGarrett ducked his head, and scooted down in his seat. 

“No adventures today. Understood,” Steve answered. “I thought Rachel was picking up Grace today. Problems?” 

“She called this morning. There’s been a misunderstanding with airport security,” Danny relayed. “Rachel and Step-Stan have been delayed in Paris.” 

“Oh?” Steve murmured, voice rising. A wicked glimmer flittered through McGarrett’s face, and lit his mercurial eyes with undeniable pleasure. Danny saw the glimmer, and a chill washed over his entire body. Steve ducked his eyes, and shifted in his seat. But it was already too late. Danny could not unsee the delight that had been in Steve’s eyes. 

Steve had done something – the only question was what he had done.

“It’s a misunderstanding, I’m sure,” Danny murmured. 

“What kind of misunderstanding?” Steve hummed, stretching out in the driver’s seat with long, cat-like movements before coiling up again.

“Like you don’t know?” Danny murmured dangerously. Steve put on his most innocent face. “Step-Stan is being questioned by French and Turkish authorities because his name came up as one of the aliases used by a gun runner out of Istanbul, a guy who hi-jacked a Turkish plane, demanded to be flown to Algeria. You remember hearing about that in the news a few months ago?”

“Yes,” Steve nodded. Danny remembered it very well, because they had been sitting in a diner having a late-night breakfast after closing a case. Steve had glanced up at the news, spit out his coffee, and snatched up his phone. McGarrett had paced outside on the sidewalk in agitated fury, screaming into the phone for twenty minutes. He returned to the table a shaking, angry mess. He had muttered the rest of the meal and most of the next day about wanting to get on a plane to Turkey, and kick the shit out of someone, because how in the hell had this guy gotten out in less than eight years’ time after what he had done. 

“I mean, it’s not like Step-Stan looks like an actual gunrunning hijacker, does he?” 

“That’s how it works, Danno. That’s how they blend in. You think they walk around with a sign that says ‘Arrest me – I’m the terrorist’?” 

“No, but…” 

“These bastards are devious. They look like everyone else. They travel with their families. They hire people to pose as families. They know how to make themselves invisible.” 

“But Stan, he’s…..so…..ordinary.” 

“You don’t know. We all have skeletons. Step-Stan could be a gunrunner in his spare time, when he’s not wrecking the delicate ecosystem of the Hawaiian environment with his multi-million dollar hotel plans.” 

Danny narrowed his eyes at Steve, and McGarrett gave a dazzling smile before turning serious once more. 

“What makes it worse is, this hijacker they’ve mistaken Step-Stan for, he is known to travel in the company of a fugitive, ex-pat, British operative. Code named ‘La Sinistra’.”

“Sinister,” Steve supplied helpfully. 

“She fits Rachel’s general description. But then again, there are a lot of 30-something, dark-haired, British women in the world, so I’d be willing to bet there are quite a few women who meet the general description of the hijacker’s girlfriend. I have to wonder what made Rachel and Stan stick out in the airport security line.”

“Rachel has got very beady eyes,” Steve offered. Danny’s mouth was a flat line of annoyance. 

“The French authorities are sending Stan’s fingerprints and DNA and mugshot to the Turkish authorities, who want to make sure his evidence don’t match the evidence from the hijacking. Once they see it’s not him, I’m sure they’ll let him go. This is all a big misunderstanding.” 

“Uh huh,” Steve agreed, avoiding Danny’s piercing gaze. 

“Rachel, on the other hand, they aren’t going to accept her fingerprints and mugshot. MI-6 wants an in-person debriefing, in order to determine that she is not in fact a dangerous fugitive operative with ties to hijackers and jihadists and gun runners.” 

“London is nice this time of year.” 

“They’re not taking her to London. They’re meeting her in Paris. Apparently La Sinistra threatened to blow up Parliament. They aren’t letting her back into the UK, let alone anywhere near London.” 

Steve’s mercurial eyes were creeping carefully towards Danny. McGarrett was biting his mouth closed so hard that his chin pointed directly forward. Steve wanted to grin – wanted to so badly – but he didn’t dare. Williams stopped speaking for a second. He stared at Steve, huffed softly, and sat back on the passenger side of the seat. Steve turned his gaze back out to the ocean and the beach ahead, the figures on the sand. Danny finally gazed out the far window, watching the waves in the distance roll steadily across the beach. 

“Why are we here at the crack of dawn?” Danny wanted to know. 

“This is not the crack of dawn. This is 8:35 a.m.”

“Let me rephrase. Why are we here before office hours? Is this surveillance connected with a case?”

“No. It’s a favor for a favor.” 

“Who are we surveilling?”

“The big dude with tatts. Kalaka Riley,” Steve said, indicating the guy who was down on the beach with two kids in tow, helping them build a sandcastle. 

“What’s he done?” Danny wondered. 

“For starters, he’s done time in Halava for conspiracy to commit murder.” 

“Who did he conspire to kill?”

“His ex-wife.” 

“Conspiracy to commit murder. Not actual murder. She’s still alive?” 

“Nope.”

“But…?” 

“Kalaka didn’t kill her. Her new husband killed her. The new husband claimed that he and Kalaka conspired together to kill her.”

“Did they?”

“My gut says no.”

“Because Mr. Riley is a fine, upstanding citizen?” 

“Because if Mr. Riley was gonna take the time to do in the ex-Mrs. Riley, he would have taken out the new husband at the same time. They hated each other’s guts. Those two men couldn’t conspire together on a lunch order, let alone murder.”

“Clearly the jury disagreed with you.”

“The jury took one look at a huge, muscular bad-ass with a terrible taste in ink, and a criminal record, and they put him away for looking like he could have committed murder. Kalaka got five years for conspiracy to commit, and the new husband got life in prison, for the actual committing part,” Steve explained impatiently. 

Danny snorted softly, nestled back in his seat. 

“I’m going to try to not draw any deeper message from what you just told me.” 

Steve nodded amiably. “No hidden message. Just saying that you wouldn’t be the first guy to want to murder his ex-wife. Still trying to make you feel better.”

“I see.” 

“Is it working?”

“Not really. Why are we surveilling Mr. Riley so early in the morning? Did he conspire to murder someone else?” 

“I need to ask him a favor for a friend.” 

“What sort of favor?” 

“Kalaka used to be a smuggler and a confidential informant before he got sent away for conspiracy to commit murder. My friend is hoping to be able to get a name from him.” 

“Why isn’t your mysterious friend here surveilling Mr. Riley?” 

“Captain Parsons is in the Med and can’t get away. Also, he helped put Kalaka away. They haven’t spoken since. Parsons is a wee bit nervous about approaching Kalaka, and wants me to test the waters.” 

“I cannot imagine why Kalaka would make him nervous,” Danny smirked.

“Also, Kalaka threatened to rearrange Parsons’ face if he ever saw him again.” 

“So Parsons is sending you?” 

“Yep.”

“You must owe Parsons a very big favor.” 

Steve’s ‘mischief managed’ smile tugged at his mouth, widening until it took up most of his face. He was doing everything he could to avoid Danny’s questioning gaze, which only raised Danny’s suspicions.

“That guy is huge,” Williams winced, shaking his head. “He’s gotta be what, six-four-six-five? Two-fifty? Two-seventy-five?” 

“Easily.”

“Those tatts? Ex-Navy?” 

“Yes. We crossed paths when I was in Naval Intelligence. I gave him his nickname, actually.”

“What’s his nickname?” 

“Kalaka,” Steve said slowly. Danny felt stupid for asking. 

“What’s his real name?” 

“Mack.” McGarrett’s smile was broadening. 

“What does ‘Kalaka’ mean?” 

“Truck,” Steve was speaking very slowly, chuckling softly again. “Wow. You are so not a morning person, are you, Danno?” 

“I’m not awake yet. It’s your fault. You didn’t bring me any coffee. No malasadas either. How do you expect me to get going if you don’t bring me coffee and malasadas? I need my sugar, babe, and you didn’t bring me nuttin’.”

“I’ll hook you up when we’re done here, okay?” 

“Just saying. If you’re going to show up at 7:30 at my door, rush me around, rush Grace around, and expect me to accompany you on this suicide mission before work even officially begins for the day, the least you could do is bring me a cup of coffee and a malasada, or two, or three. Why did you and Mr. Mack Truck over there cross paths?”

“Kalaka was using his quartermaster connections to run a black market in stolen property.” 

“How good was he?” 

“He placed ‘best in show’ several years running,” Steve joked. “I busted him twice myself. The first time, he got the charges dismissed. I don’t want to jump to any rash conclusions, but I believe he bribed the judge. The second time, he was dishonorably discharged, because his case was heard state-side. The Navy didn't give him any time, but they sent him home to Hawaii. Kalaka was here less than two weeks before he caught a flight back to Turkey. Picked up right where he left off.”

“Shit. That’s ballsy. How did he end up entangled in the mess over his ex-wife’s murder?” 

“I know, right? The timeline was all wrong for me too. I mean, he was in Hawaii long enough to learn that his wife had divorced him, and remarried, and took the kids, and that he wasn’t allowed to see them. He was on the Island maybe two weeks before he was back in Istanbul. He didn’t have time to plot his ex-wife’s death. I explained to Captain Parsons that Kalaka didn’t have enough time to plot to kill her, but, like I said, the jury took one look at him, and you know the rest. Kalaka was brought back to Hawaii a second time to stand trial, and Parsons helped to convict him. I should bite the bullet and just go talk to Kalaka. I’m sure he’s spotted me by now.” 

“He’s not going to be happy to see you, is he?” 

“Nope.”

“You want me to call for backup?” Danny offered playfully. 

“Ambulance,” Steve whispered, getting out of the car. 

“Hey, Steve?”

“What?” 

“When are you going to let Rachel and Step-Stan come home?” Danny asked casually.

“When they stop upsetting you,” Steve replied even more casually, checking his badge on his waist, but leaving his weapon in the car. 

Danny’s chipmunk chuckle lit up his face with shock and humor. 

“You aren’t even going to deny it, are you?”

“No,” Steve shook his head. “After what happened Friday night, I am instituting a new policy when dealing with Rachel and Step-Stan.” 

“What’s that?” 

“When they make you cry, I will make them cry.” 

“Steve, what did you do?” 

“You’re my ohana,” Steve pouted. 

“This should go without saying, but it’s you. So I’ll explain slowly, and I’ll use very small words. Civilized human beings do not conspire to have innocent people detained at foreign airports. Especially not on my account. Do we have an understanding?” 

Steve dropped down beside the car and peered in through the window, leaning his elbows and arms on the door. 

“They upset you. I don’t like to see you upset.” 

“Steve, my happiness is not your mission in life.” 

“Isn’t it?” McGarrett retorted. “When you’re happy, your job performance is better. You smile more. You eat less bad food. You don’t wallow in self-pity, and you don’t guzzle Piña Coladas and shake your perky ass to bad music. When you’re happy, you don’t vomit on me. If nothing else, I wanna keep you happy to avoid more vomit. Is that okay with you?” 

“Steve….” Danny breathed. His brain was stuck on the comment about his perky ass. Did McGarrett realize what he had said? 

“I’ll make you a promise, Danno.”

“I’m all ears, Animal.” 

“I won’t have people detained at foreign airports if you swear you will never again sing a Garth Brooks’ song. How about that?” 

“You caught me at low tide. I wasn’t myself.” 

“No, you aren’t yourself, because your ex-wife has you by the short and curlies, and you are not fighting back. You’re just going to lay there and take it. She upsets you on purpose. She toys with you because she’s a sadist. And you let her toy with you because you’re afraid to fight back, because you know fighting back means you might never see your daughter again. You know what? Rachel knows that too, and that’s why she’s treating you this way. She knows she has you in a position where you can’t fight back, and she’s toying with you, because that’s what abusers do. They hurt you, and they suck down all your pain because they enjoy it, and then they apologize. They work themselves back into your good graces, and you think you can trust them again, because they said they love you, and they meant it this time, and they will never hurt you again. And then, BIG FUCKING SURPRISE, the cycle repeats. They start all over at the beginning.” 

“Steve, politely and respectfully, how I deal with my ex-wife is really none of your business.”

“You and I handle being upset very differently.”

“Yes, yes, we do, because I would never have someone held on suspicion of international terrorism, unless I thought they were actually a terrorist! You need to butt out of this. Now.”

“I can't! The problem is, when you’re upset, I’m upset. See, though, when I’m upset, I fight back. I don’t curl up in a ball, and wait for the hurt to stop. I don’t get so drunk that I forget I need to pick up my daughter at 7 a.m. When fucking people hurt me, I fucking hurt people back. How about that for a strategy, Danno? When people kick you in the feels, you kick them back, right in their feels.” 

“Steve, the situation between Rachel and me is very delicate.” 

“No shit, Sherlock.” 

“I can’t just…I want to keep my visitation rights, you understand?” 

“I understand. But you’re my ohana. They upset you. They had to pay. It’s just that simple.”

“To be fair about it, Step-Stan was kind of an innocent bystander in all of this.” 

“Fuck him. He stole your wife, alienated her affections, and now he’s trying to buy your daughter’s love. As far as I’m concerned, anything that happens to Step-Stan is gravy on top. He has made himself collateral damage in this war.”

“This is not a war.”

“It is now,” McGarrett smiled wickedly. “You know, you're right. I do suck at dealing with people. I’m not good at sharing my emotions. I don’t do so well with social niceties. I’m not good at a lot of things. But there is one thing I am very good at.”

“War,” Danny nodded. 

“That’s right, Danno. War, I'm pretty darned good at that. And when someone hurts my ohana, they hurt me. I don’t take that shit lying down.” 

“How did you manage to get them held at the airport?” 

“Do you really want to know?” Steve wondered. 

“No. I probably don’t. Look, buddy?” 

“Yes, Danno?” 

“I appreciate that you did this for my sake, but it’s time to stop. You need to let Rachel and Step-Stan come home.” 

“Are you sure? Because I could have them held as long as you want. You wouldn’t have to worry about fighting Rachel to see Gracie. You could have Gracie all the time. You’d never again have to worry about Rachel using you, playing on your emotions, wrapping you around her finger with the promise of nookie. You say the word, Danno, and it’s done. I can make her and Step-Stan both disappear.”

“Steve! No! Are you listening to yourself?” Danny shivered because for an instant, it was all laid out before him. Everything he could have dreamed – custody of his daughter, Rachel out of his hair, never again having to smile and pretend it was all okay when he was furious and dying inside. What Steve was offering was so tempting, and Danny should hate himself for even considering saying yes. 

“I could make them disappear at least until Gracie is eighteen.” 

“Steve, civilized people don’t do these sorts of things!”

“I don’t like seeing you upset.” 

“This is my fault. This is on me. Okay? I’m sensitive. You know that. I took what Rachel said the wrong way. But she apologized when she called. It’s all good. She didn’t mean to make me feel like I didn’t belong at my daughter’s birthday party. She said she was sorry, like a million times.”

“Of course she apologized. It’s like I said before. This is the calm between the storms. She’s an abuser, but you can’t see that, because you’re still in love with her. And in this instance, oh, Danno, I know exactly how you feel. Point blank. I know what it’s like to love someone who only needs you when you’re convenient, and the rest of the time they don’t even acknowledge you’re alive. I’m not going to let Rachel get away with hurting you like this.” 

“Steven, you are not allowed to have people detained, and you are not allowed to make people disappear, ever. Do you hear me? I never want to hear those words come out of your mouth again. It scares me when you say things like that. Am I getting through to you? Do you understand how wrong this is? Tell me you understand what I’m saying,” Danny pleaded.

Steve stared woefully at Danny, big hands gripping the sides off the car until Danny was sure he saw finger marks in the metal. 

“Fine. I understand,” Steve pouted. 

“I want Rachel and Step-Stan to come home. Now. In one piece.” 

“They’ll be on the next flight. Gimme my phone. It’s in the floorboard.” 

“Here,” Danny sighed, fishing out the device for McGarrett. Steve clicked a couple numbers, and turned away, resting his butt on the door frame this time. Danny wanted to scold him about the rivets in his jeans digging into the car paint, but didn’t have the heart to do it. He reached up and put a hand on Steve’s waist, patting his side very gently. Bless him – his heart was in the right place.

“Parsons? It’s McGarrett. Call it off. Yeah, I know. I tried talking sense to him, but he won’t listen. What can you do with people? Love makes us stupid. Oh, hey, also, I’m about to talk to Riley now. I’ll let you know if I get anywhere. Thanks again for Paris. Mahalos.” 

Steve handed his phone back to Danny, along with a timid smile. 

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” 

Danny slipped the phone into the seat when a dark shadow fell across the front of the Camaro, and blocked the entire window.

“Oh, shit,” Danny whispered.

“Commander McGarrett?” 

“Lieutenant Riley?” Steve gulped.

Kalaka clocked Steve upside the head without warning. McGarrett flew against the side of the car and slid to the ground, spurting blood, holding his face. He rose carefully to his feet, blood dripping down his shirt. Danny scrambled out and around the car, propping McGarrett up. 

“I heard Parsons is poking around my old contacts in the Med," Kalaka growled.

“Yes. He is.” 

“Did he send you down here to talk to me?” 

“Yes.” 

“Because he’s too much of a coward to face me himself?” 

“I’m doing him a favor.” 

“You tell Parsons if he wants anything from me, he can bring his ass to Hawaii, and talk to me himself. But not while I’m visiting my kids. I get one day a week, and I ain’t wasting what precious time I have with them talking to his stupid ass.” 

“I’ll tell him,” Steve agreed. 

“You should put some ice on that,” Riley grinned, thumping a big hand on Steve’s chest. “See you around, Commander.”

Steve nodded, holding onto his face. Kalaka returned to his kids and his sandcastle like nothing unusual had happened. Steve sagged against the door, eyes filled with pain. 

“Get in the car,” Danny said, walking McGarrett around to the passenger side.

“My node.” 

Danny lifted Steve’s bloodied hand long enough to stare up his nostrils and wince. His phone was ringing. Williams answered while snatching the travel pack of tissues from the glove compartment.

“Detective Williams.” 

Steve was close enough to hear the conversation, because Danny was right in his face, gingerly touching his nose with a tissue.

“Danny, it’s Rachel. We’ll be on the next flight. Apparently the US Navy has stepped in on our behalf. Does your friend Steven know a Captain Parsons? He is promising to give us a personal escort home. Isn’t that nice? Tell Commander McGarrett thank you.” 

“I will, dear,” Danny smirked. Steve grimaced sourly, nose dripping more blood. Danny pushed clean tissues against his face. 

“Sorry about the delay. Sorry about everything. Thanks for taking care of Gracie,” Rachel continued. 

“You’re welcome. Have a safe flight, dear.”

Danny hung up the phone, and gave Steve’s nose a pinch. 

“Don't eber call me ‘dear’,” McGarrett mumbled.

“You heard her voice? How scared she was? Doesn't that make you feel the least bit guilty?" 

"No." 

"Promise me this is the first and last time you will have my ex-wife and her new husband held on suspicion of international terrorism.” 

“She deserbes ebery second ob it,” Steve muttered. 

Danny flicked him on the bridge of the nose. Steve rocketed up from the seat with a squeal of pain, bumping his head on the roof of the car. 

“Ow!” 

“Bad doggy,” Danny scolded. “Should we stop at the hospital on the way to the office?”

“It not serious.” 

Danny raised a brow, and got into the driver’s seat. 

“We'll get you some ice when we stop for coffee and malasadas," he chuckled, patting Steve’s big chest. 

"Don tell Chin or Kono what happen," Steve frowned. 

"What? I'm not going to lie to our ohana. I'll tell them the truth. You were hit by a truck, because you deserved it." Danny waggled his eyebrows, and backed out of the parking spot.


End file.
